Shadow and Flame
by DeadlyGenie
Summary: The dark fires of revenge are indeed a powerful foe... Are they enough to plunge a loving father into oblivion?
1. Chapter 1

**Shadow and Flame**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of World of Warcraft.**

An orange dawn broke over the great oak trees of Elwynn Forest. The rays filtered in through the window of a small house and lightly touched the eyes of the one inside.

Fengsien awoke with a start. Yet again, he had worked for most of the night and had fallen asleep on his desk. It did not make for an impressive sight, the apparently elderly man jolting awake at the first rays of dawn, scattering parchment every which way in his stupor. Fengsien blinked. What had he been working on, anyway? Ah, yes - the difficult task of finding a way to summon more than one demon at any one time. It was the peak of a warlock's arts, and had eluded all but a few. Fengsien stared down at the parchment before him. Writing criss-crossed over the page, diagrams too, more crossed out than legible. Memories tugged at Fengsien's consciousness. It was his dream, the one he had every night. It was a nightmare really, pervading his mind, always lurking behind him like a malevolent shadow. It was the memory of the day, eighteen years ago, when his world had shattered into a thousand darkened pieces.

He had not always trod the path of a warlock. No one had, really, merely finding their way to the dark arts later on in life. No, he had been a mage, of the school of fire, and a prodigy at that. There were even whisperings that one day he might be the new Archmage. It was during his studies that he met Sarah, a beautiful mage of the school of frost. They swiftly fell in love and were married within a year. She bore him one child, a daughter, whom they named Elbereth, meaning 'Star-Queen' in the elven tongue. They were happy, and like all happinesses it seemed like it could last for ever. But for some, the pull of fate is irresistible, no matter the cost.

Fengsien had gone to the city for the day to visit an old friend. They spent the day drinking, laughing and reminiscing about the times they had shared. By the time he left to return home the sun had long set and he had nothing but the light of a few faint stars to guide his unsteady legs home. Even before he had come within a hundred metres of his house he could tell that something was wrong. He could not sense the light of Sarah's soul, as he had every day since they had met. He broke into a stumbling run, half of him wanting to discover the source of his fear, the other half wanting to run, to cower in shadow, to hide from what might be.

Fengsien finally reached the door of his home; wavering fingers pushing it open with only the slightest degree of reluctance. Inside, it seemed as if one of the Great Winds had torn through the rooms. Furniture lay about the room, broken and scattered. Papers and books littered the floor, torn apart with reckless abandon. Most prominent of all, however, was the smell. The smell of blood – Sarah's blood. He turned a corner and his heart almost stopped there and then. His beloved wife was lying motionless on the floor, her eyes glazed, her hair matted with her own blood. Fengsien had known it on some level from the moment he entered the house. The flame of her spirit was gone, departed to the next world. As his grief welled up inside him, it was slowly replaced by a burning anger that ate at his very soul. Someone had done this to his beloved wife, and that person would feel flames a thousand times worse than in the lowest of the seven Hells.

It was only now, after his tears had dried in the heat of his anger, that Fengsien saw him. A tall, thin man wearing little more than rags, standing silently by the wall. He wore the red bandana that marked him as one of the thieving Defias. He still held the knife that had murdered Sarah: it dripped with her blood, the blood that sang of her pain. A heat haze shimmered around Fengsien, created by his anger and hate. This was the man who had murdered his wife. The flesh would be stripped from his bones and his blood boiled into dust. And that would be mercy. Head pounding with fury, he raised his hand and began to chant the spell of all consuming fire:

"Lhachlin…"1

His words choked him as the Defias held up a small bundle that, in his rage, Fengsien had not yet seen. Elbereth. The bastard had Elbereth! Now there was nothing that he could do. Fengsien would rather die than harm his daughter, even if it was to avenge the death of his wife. Hating himself, he sank to his knees as the Defias slipped out of the open door, taking with him the child that represented all Fengsien had left in the world.

It was maybe an hour before Fengsien could gather enough strength to stagger to his feet. He felt that he could die right then, if only it would take the pain away. But he knew that he could not. That would be betraying Sarah's memory. He knew that he must live, if only for her, and that there was one last duty he must do for her. Without even pausing to look upon his beloved's face one last time, he shakily staggered out into the forest and turned to look at his home. He knew that he could never come back here now. His old life was at an end. Concentrating for a minute to order his mind, he gathered all his power to him. Shaping his energy in his mind, he focused on what had been his home and spoke:

"Kirilúvë, laurëlhach!"²

A pillar of flame burst out of the centre of the house, white hot, incinerating all it touched, razing his house, his life, to the ground in a matter of seconds. Fengsien lowered his arms and sighed mournfully. It was finished. His old existence had ended, nothing remained. He turned and walked off down the road to the city, not once looking behind him to the burnt, smoking clearing that remained.

1 Dancing fire, sing…

² Cut everything, golden flame!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Warcraft, including the World of.**

**Thanks to Dakyu for the new summary!**

It did not take much to push Fengsien down the dark path of a warlock. He was consumed by hatred and resentment that gnawed away at his very being, destroying him from the inside out. He hated the Defias that had killed his wife and abducted his daughter, yes, but he also hated himself. He hated that he had not been strong enough to save his family, but could only watched as the source of all his pain escaped into the night. A 'prodigy' he was called, yet he was so weak. He needed more power, power enough to save his daughter and redeem his aching soul.

He had heard about the powers granted by the Burning Legion. All mages had, they were taught about them in any education they received. The message was always the same – they can grant great power, but little by little the darkness would turn on its master, consuming them, another willing sacrifice to the dark powers. Fengsien knew all this, but it no longer mattered to him what claimed his soul. All he wanted was to see his daughter free, to hold her in his arms again. He would have spat in the faces of the Old Gods themselves to rescue her. He knew that the shadow offered exceptional power, and it was his for the taking.

Acquiring that power was not, however, an easy task. The study of the dark arts was understandably outlawed, and those few who practiced them could not be easily found. It was many months before Fengsien even found where some books on the subject might be hidden. There was an old tower, deep in the twisted, blackened Duskwood, where it was said that no animals ever went and that was guarded by legions of the undead. It could well have been a simple peasant's tale, passed around in inns and never proved one way or the other, but by this time Fengsien was prepared to believe anything if it meant attaining the power he so craved.

His arrival in Darkshire provoked little interest in the inhabitants of this cursed place. A tired, ragged man, driven to despair by his frantic search, was insignificant compared to some of the horrors that arrived in the night. Slowly Fengsien made his way to the supposed location of this mysterious tower. Already he looked older, his defiant spirit showing only in the intense gleam of his eyes. He leaned on his staff, breathing heavily. If even the pursuit of the dark powers could wrack his body this much there was no telling what a mastery of them could do. No matter. He would not die without holding his daughter again, even if he had to use his powers to hold his body together.

He sensed the tower before he saw it, the feeling of oppression surrounding him, enclosing his heart in an iron vice. He gasped; was this the power he had sought? Even the presence of a warlock could make him feel like this, the sense of being choked by the very air he breathed? Evidently this was a powerful one, and one who would not appreciate being disturbed. Muttering a brief prayer to any gods that might be merciful on him, he strode forward to meet whatever might be waiting for him in the clearing ahead.

His feeling of unease increased as he saw the unholy structure loom up in front of him. For the first time in a long time he was filled with dread. Was any power worth fighting this pervading fear that threatened to destroy his mind, render him helpless against the horrors of the world? He steeled himself. This power was not for him, but for the daughter that he loved, who he had sworn to rescue from those who had cruelly torn them apart. For her, he would be brave.

As he approached the door of the tower it felt as if a great weight was pressing down on his back. He tried to fight it, but his wasted legs could not hold him and he slowly sank to the floor. Undeterred, he crawled forward, gasping in pain, until he reached the black wood of the door. He raised a shaking hand and weakly knocked once, twice, thrice against the door. Minutes passed without an answer, though Fengsien was sure that such an awful aura could not come from a mere empty building. He was gathering his strength to try again, when a quiet voice whispered in his ear:

"Everyone who has knocked on that door has regretted it, you know…"

Fengsien spun round. Behind him was an old, old man dressed in a faded purple robe. He was bending down to Fengsien, a twisted grin playing across his face. All this was insignificant though, compared to the overwhelming sense of _evil _emanating from him. It saturated the air around him, seeping into Fengsien's every pore, sickening his very soul.

"Ah, look at you! A mere babe barely out of his mother's embrace! What a fool you must be to come knocking at my door! Have you anything to say before I flay the skin from your bones and feed your spirit to the void?"

Fengsien forced himself to stand, though he was bent almost double by the force of this man's power.

"I want to learn. I want the same power you call your own. I must have it, for there is something I must do, and I need this great power."

The old man raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with mirth.

"Oh? And you feel that you could wield this power, though you can barely stand before me? I sense your purpose, boy. It is noble – you seek to rescue someone you love, yes? There is no room for nobility in my craft. Only those with loyalty only to themselves are strong, only they can withstand the pull of the void."

"I will not leave until you agree to teach me." Fengsien stood straighter still. "You do not know my dedication – I will do anything to achieve this power, just let me taste it and I will serve you."

The old man scratched his chin. "It is true that I have not had an apprentice in many years. And it will be… entertaining. I should very much enjoy seeing your last moments as the darkness ravages your mind. I understand it is quite painful…" He smiled, his teeth looking almost like fangs. "I shall take you on, boy, until you are drawn into shadow – though I believe it will not be long. What is your name, he who desires death?"

"I am Fengsien. I was once a mage, though I no longer tread that path. May I know your name, sir?"

The old warlock chuckled. "Names are powerful, boy. I shall not tell you mine; you have no need of it. You will address me as Master, and show me the deference that is proper!"

Fengsien hissed inwardly. "Yes… Master…"

Another fanged grin. "Very good. Now your training can begin". He made a complicated gesture in the air and the door swung open. He strode inside and Fengsien shortly followed, into the life of darkness that awaited him.


End file.
